


Skin Contact

by distant_rose



Series: Little Pirates [18]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Captain Cobra - Freeform, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Family Feels, Fluff, Kangaroo Care, Some angst, baby harrison cuddles, but mainly fluff, ridiculous fluff, serious cuddling, stepfather-stepson bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-23
Updated: 2017-07-24
Packaged: 2018-12-06 03:20:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11591862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/distant_rose/pseuds/distant_rose
Summary: Meaningful conversations and bonding occur in the Swan-Jones household when the latest addition of the family comes home.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> What happens when I talk to my dad about kangaroo care and SIDS tragedies? I get inspired to write Killian with babies. I know that there is a huge queue going, but when the muse hits you, the muse hits you. This might be the shortest thing I have written in awhile but I cannot imagine it any other way. So here’s some shirtless!Killian with newborn!Harrison and some Henry too. Because everyone needs some Captain Cobra. Questions, comments, concerns? I'm always available on tumblr @ distant-rose.tumblr.com

Killian Jones had a son.

He had been a father for four days now, but the fact still stunned him even while he held his newborn child. The boy was quite large, already weighing nearly a stone, but he felt quite small and vulnerable against his chest; a tiny little bird without feathers. An intense hum of fear and anxiousness sang in Killian’s blood, afraid that if he squeezed too hard then he would break the beautiful boy in his arms. His son was fragile, more than most babes, and had already suffered an injury coming into this world.

“You were born into this world already struggling,” he murmured aloud, running a finger down the side of the boy’s cheek. The boy wrinkled his entire face in response. “I’m sorry for that, little one. I would never have wished it upon anyone.”

The babe merely whimpered in reply, nosing his face closer to his father’s chest in search for warmth. Killian adjusted his grip, careful not to move the boy’s left arm in fear of disturbing the boy’s broken clavicle.

The doctor had assured them it wasn’t uncommon for large babies to break their collarbone during birth and that it would heal in a few weeks, but this didn’t little to soothe him. Killian could not help but feel resentful that there wasn’t much modern medicine could do to help his baby boy. According to the doctor, there was no cast or salve that they could use to heal this type of injury for an infant and the only thing they could do was pin the affected arm’s sleeve to his body in order to immobilize it. He had nearly begged Regina to heal him and relieve his son of his pain but she had refused, citing that his body was too weak to handle such magic.

“I wish I could do more for you,” he whispered as he bent to kiss his son’s hairline. “All I can tell you is that the pain will pass. I promise that. It will all pass and I will do everything and anything to make sure of that.”

The little boy whimpered again, this time louder and sounding more distressed. Not wanting for his son to break into yet another crying fit, Killian rocked him gently as he could without jostling his arm in hopes of mollifying him. He hummed a melody under his breath, a soft one that he once knew the words to but had long since forgotten.

There was a loud creak behind him as someone settled in the doorway. Killian didn’t bother to turn around. There were only two other people in the house with him and after the last few nights they’ve had, he hoped either would just turn around and go back to sleep.

“Hook? Is everything okay? I heard little Han crying and it just stopped…” Henry’s tired voice called.

“Harrison’s fine, Henry, just a little cranky. He’s calming down a bit. Go back to sleep, lad,” Killian replied as quietly as he could, hoping against hope that the break in melody wouldn’t disturb the baby further.

“I can’t,” Henry said after a moment. “I psyched myself out. He stopped crying and for a moment I thought it was SIDS.”

The floorboards protested as Henry inched forward into the room.

“Not SIDS,” Killian confirmed, giving his son another kiss on the head. The thought of SIDS alone terrified him. “Just getting some love. I’m pretty sure he just wanted to be held. Between all of us, I think he’s only laid on his own for two hours in the past four days.”

“Four days old and already spoiled,” Henry commented with some humor as he reached Killian’s side.

Though it was dark in the room, Henry was now close enough that Killian could see some of the details in his face. Henry wasn’t looking at him, but at the slightly whimpering infant - his brother. Killian swallowed hard for a moment as he realized that his son had an older brother; his own Liam.

Henry’s gaze flickered up from his brother and landed on Killian’s bare chest, as if realizing for the first time that his stepfather was only half dressed. Killian watched as Henry’s eyes took in the various tattoos and scars that littered his skin. He frowned.

“I didn’t realize you were so tatted,” Henry remarked for a moment.

If Killian hadn’t been holding his four-day old son, he probably would have shrugged, but he was so terrified of hurting Harrison any more than he already was that he just stood stiffly.

“I wasn’t necessarily hiding them from you or anyone particularly. I just don’t make a habit being so unclothed in public,” he replied in neutral tone.

“Ah okay.” Henry shifted awkwardly for a moment. “Any reason why you are now?”

“Aside from being in my own home?” Killian clarified with faint amusement. “Skin contact is good for babies. Every study I’ve come across this recommended that newborns have as much skin contact as possible. It helps them sleep…reduces stress…helps form bonds between parent and child. They say that they can form preferences from hearing voices while in the womb, but I don’t quite believe them on that. This…this…”

Killian had always been good with words, but they seemed to be failing him at the moment. For some reason, he couldn’t get out that he wanted to bond with his son; he wanted his son to love him as much as Killian already loved him.

Henry’s eyes softened and he swallowed visibly in the darkness.

“I don’t think I ever had that…” he said quietly. “I don’t think either of my moms ever thought to do that for me…Neal didn’t even know so…yeah…that’s nice Harrison has that…”

If Killian wasn’t holding his son, he would have hugged Henry for the somewhat broken expression on his face. He had no doubt in his mind that Henry was correct in his assumptions about Emma and Regina.

“If it makes you feel better, neither your mother or myself had that either. We didn’t have the luxury. You can’t blame Emma for that though. She did the best she could in an impossible situation so you could be happy,” he replied gently, feeling the need to defend his wife.

“No. I get that,” Henry said after a pause. “I’m not angry. I’m just…”

“You wish that someone did.” Killian gave him a sympathetic look. “You’re allowed to feel that way. You’re allowed to feel however you want. Just don’t let it eat you because you’ve very much loved.”

“I know, I know, I know. I have Regina, I have Emma, my grandparents, baby Neal”-“And me,” Killian interrupted gently.

“Yeah?” Henry looked somewhat stunned.

“Yeah. You always did. I’m not your father, I’m not Bae, and I don’t want to erase him from his place, but you’ve always been…Henry, to me, you’re just as much my son as Harrison is.”

Killian and Henry regarded each other quietly for a moment. The only sound in the room was Harrison’s quiet little noises as he squirmed a bit in his father’s arms.

“Can I tell you something that I haven’t told anyone?” Henry’s voice was barely above a whisper.

“Go ahead, lad.”

“I don’t really remember him. Neal. Like I remember what we did together, kinda, but I don’t remember his face or his voice or what his laugh sounded like. I remember Robin better than him.”

“I’m sorry,” Killian replied because he didn’t know what else to say. All he felt was a deep sadness for the boy who never really knew his father; a father that had actually wanted to know him, which was more than Killian could say for his own.

“It’s okay. I’ve learned to deal. And you’re right, I have you. And so does little Han Solo here.”

Killian snorted slightly at the nickname, looking down at the boy in his arms. Harrison’s eyes were starting to droop again. Finally. He breathed a sigh of relief for a moment.

“You’re going to keep insisting on calling him that, aren’t you?”

“Of course,” Henry scoffed. “It should have been his name. Han would have been the perfect name for the son of a princess and a pirate. He’s going to be a dashing rogue. Just you wait.”

“Or he will be a thoughtful and courteous young man. Much like his older brother,” he remarked, looking up and catching the dark stain on Henry’s cheeks. “After all, he’s going to have you there to guide him and teach him how to be a hero.”

“You think so?” Henry’s voice held some hesitation.

“I know so,” Killian said firmly. “You know after Emma and myself, your voice is the one he knows the best. He probably is already somewhat attached to you.”

“Really?”

“Absolutely,” he affirmed. “If he already doesn’t, he will definitely love you. Harrison couldn’t have asked for a better older brother.”

“Can I…Can I hold him?” Henry asked, once more unsure of himself.

The question gave Killian a bit of a pause. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Henry because he did, but Killian really didn’t want to jostle Harrison’s damaged collarbone any more than he already had. Though after seeing the anxious expression on his stepson’s face, he knew that there was only one proper answer to the question.

“Of course, you can. You need to be careful though because he got battle wounded on his way out, but you can hold Harrison whenever you want, Henry. He’s your little brother.”

“Cool.”

Killian frowned as Henry reached for the bottom of his shirt.

“What are you doing?”

“You said that skin contact is good for babies and for bonding and he’s my brother…I just thought…is this weird?”

“I haven’t read studies talking about siblings, but I don’t see the harm in it…It’s not weird…It’s…You’re very thoughtful, Henry.”

Henry took off his shirt, tossing it into the nearby waiting chair. He looked at Killian expectantly, fingers practically twitching at his sides. As carefully as he could, Killian transferred his little boy over to his stepson, ever mindful of his left arm. Henry’s lips broke into a smile that Killian never had seen the lad wear before as he gazed down at Harrison.

“Mindful of the arm, Henry,” Killian reminded gently.

  
“I know…I got this…” Henry responded, not looking up from his brother. “Hi Harrison…you’re big little guy, you know? I’ve been waiting a long time for you. Since I was old enough to want anything, I wanted a little brother or sister. It took you long enough, but I guess you’re worth the wait.”

A strange lump formed in Killian’s throat as he heard Henry speak to the little one. Emotions that he hadn’t expected were quelling up inside of him and he wondered if this was how his mother felt when she had seen Liam and him when he had been a child. He couldn’t imagine Brennan Jones feeling anything considering he sold away his eldest sons, but his mother? She had been a gentle soul who had loved them both dearly before she died. He felt mixture of love, pride, gratitude and humility. He was never more grateful that Harrison had Henry for an older brother.

“This is both the most relaxing and most stressful thing I’ve ever done, I think,” Henry said after a moment.

“Adrenaline and oxytocin,” Killian replied lightly. “You’re afraid you’re going to hurt him, so that’s the adrenaline right there, but according to all the studies I’ve read, direct skin contact leads to the production of oxytocin, whatever the devil that is, but apparently it makes you happy.”

“You’re becoming quite the modern man, Hook.”

“I have to,” Killian replied with a heavy sigh. “If my son is going to be raised in this realm, I need to know as much as I can about it and how it works.”

“That’s reasonable.” Henry’s grin grew softer and more tender. “I didn’t mean to make fun of you. It’s just this is kinda amazing and you’re spouting off about adrenaline and oxytocin.”

“It’s the only way I can comprehend it in words, because really it’s bit indescribable. Awe-inspiring. Fantastic. Just wait until you hold your own child. I swear your heart will feel like it wants to rip itself out of your chest.”

“That might not be for a long while,” Henry muttered, shifting on his feet. Harrison let out a noise that made it clear he was not pleased with the movement. “You and Mom not planning on having any more kids?”

“Your brother is only four-days old. Give us a break. Let’s make sure we don’t mess this one up before we add any other children to the mix,” Killian responded rather defensively, raking his hand through his hair.

The truth was that Emma and his discussions on children had always been short and brief. The conclusion of nearly every conversation they had had been to delay conclusion for another time. They hadn’t planned on Harrison at all. He had been surprise and not one that had not been so happy in the beginning.

Despite his initial reservations, he would never regret Harrison. His newborn son was gift that he could never have asked for. Though, whether or not he would be the first and only was still up in the air. Killian wouldn’t mind if they had more children, but he was certain that Emma would be not be as enthusiastic to get pregnant again after such a difficult birth with Harrison.

“Sorry,” Henry replied awkwardly, breaking Killian from his thoughts. “I just…it might be kinda cool to have more than one little sibling to look after. I’m cool with little Han Solo for now though.”

“Good,” Killian chuckled. “Because your mother might kill you if you said otherwise.”

“Yeah, you might be right there,” Henry whispered.

He looked down at Harrison again and Killian followed his gaze. Harrison’s eyes were shut and his breath looked like it was evening out. He was almost asleep. Killian nearly sang the hallelujah at the sight.

“Give him back here, lad, so he can really sleep and we can too. We need as much of it as we can get. Long nights ahead of us,” Killian recommended.

Henry nodded and reluctantly moved to put his little brother back into Killian’s arms so he could carry him back in the little bassinet set up in his and Emma’s room. They had set up a rather expensive nursery not long after they had found out Emma was pregnant, but had agreed to let him sleep with them until he reached six months. With how protective he was feeling at the moment, Killian wondered if he would ever feel comfortable moving his son into the nursery. It didn’t seem likely.

As Henry moved to retrieve his shirt, Killian placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey. I’m proud of you. You did good,” he whispered.

“Thanks…Dad.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone on tumblr asked for a continuation of Skin Contact with Emma present. I am going to say this now, I don’t normally handle or answer requests this fast, but I’m still high on this idea and I can’t get it out of my head. Like I want to work on my next prompt, but this one won’t leave me alone. Here's the final chapter on this one. As always, questions, comments and concerns - find me on tumblr @ distant-rose.tumblr.com.

When Killian arrived in Storybrooke the first time, one of the things he marveled at was modern plumbing, whether for the toilet or the shower. The ability to just pull a lever or turn a knob and control the flow of water had been something just short of miraculous to him. He had always done his best to bath regularly before, but it had been more of a mundane chore than a luxurious exercise; now it was not only easy but also pleasurable and Emma had nearly killed him for his constant and prolonged use of hot water.

It wasn’t until he took a shower for the firsttime days after his son’s birth that he realized that he had become very accustomed to the World Without Magic and that he had taken something so fantastic for granted. The water pounded away the aches in his back, washing away the grime and filth off of him. His muscles calmed and warmth enveloped his bones. He felt like a person again, rather than the barely functioning subhuman he had become.

He was exhausted, more so than he ever remembered being in his entire life. His son had been brought into the world five days ago and he wasn’t sure he or Emma had slept a full minute since. In fact, this shower was probably the first time he had been actually alone in the past few days as he, his wife and stepson had scrambled and struggled to care for the child - an incredibly small and defenseless creature who really had no true way of communicating his needs, which was more nerve wrecking than Killian cared to admit.

The second he turned off the water and briskly toweled off, Killian felt the tiredness creep back in and he sighed in resignation. He had been warned that the first few weeks were the worst but he hadn’t at all been prepared for this. Nothing David, Belle or the countless books he had read could accurately describe the level of sleep deprivation, anxiety and panic that had come with bringing Harrison home.

With more consideration than Killian has ever given, he slowly and quietly opened the door that led to his and Emma’s bedroom, hoping and praying to the gods that he would wake his son, who had been put to bed just before his shower. However, he soon discovered his thoughtful attempt was in vain because the child was awake and feeding away at his mother’s breast. The sight made him smile softly, or did it until he saw Emma’s expression and all joy melted away.

Emma, who was leaning against the headboard of their bed in only a pair of athletic shorts, was visibly shaking with tears leaking down her cheeks. Her teeth were dug painfully into her bottom lip as if she were doing her best to hold back a cry. Big purple bruises sagged under the corners of her eyes, reminding Killian that she had gotten just as little sleep as he had.

“Love, are you alright?” he asked cautiously as he approached, more focused on her than on dressing.

“No,” she croaked. “I’m not.”

“What’s wrong?” Killian practically sprinted over, not caring as he dropped his towel and headed over to her side. After everything they had been through, he wasn’t going to waste time on false modesty.

“Everything,” she sniffed. “Everything is wrong, Killian. I have no idea what I’m doing. I don’t even remember what day it is. Every part of me is sore. My lady parts looked like American Horror Story: Birth Edition and feel like it too. Breastfeeding fucking sucks. I want to punch my mother in the face for suggesting otherwise because my nipples feel like they’re going to fall off because they hurt so much! Harrison won’t stop eating. Literally will not stop. The doctor said he should be eating every one or two hours, it’s been every forty-five minutes! He won’t leave my boob alone! He’s probably punishing me because I broke him! We shouldn’t have done this.”

As she finished her tirade, more tears leaked from the corners of her eyes and Killian was more than certain that she was on her way to having a complete and total meltdown of epic proportions and he wasn’t sure he couldn’t handle both a crying Emma and a crying Harrison at the same time. He might cry himself.

“Hey, hey, hey. Shhh..” Killian placed his hand on her cheek, thumbing away the wayward tears that were running down her face. “Hey…we’re five days into this. Give yourself a break. You did not break our son.”

“The broken collarbone says otherwise,” Emma replied stubbornly, looking down at the arm that they had put in a makeshift sling.

“It happens. The doctor said so,” he tried to reassure her. “Broken bones heal. Just give it time. He won’t even remember it when he’s older.”

“I know that,” Emma snapped. “But still, I feel like I failed him. I’ve had him for five days and I failed him.”

“Not at all,” Killian disagreed. “He’s doing great and you’re doing great.”

The babe in question did not look unhappy at all. In fact, he was incredibly focused on finishing his meal and seemed completely unaware of his mother’s distress. Killian itched to put his hand on top of his son’s dark head and feel the soft downey hair underneath his fingers, but he didn’t want to interrupt his feeding.

“He shouldn’t be eating this much,” Emma replied stubbornly. “It’s literally nonstop.”

“He’s a big lad. Naturally he wants to eat more. Big body, big appetite. He’s just growing. Nothing to be worried about.”

“I’m well aware how big he is,” Emma snipped, glaring at him with tired eyes. “I pushed him out. Like a fucking watermelon out of my vagina. Remember?”

“It’s not something I’m likely to forget,” Killian muttered, holding back a grimace.

Whoever suggested childbirth was a beautiful miracle needed to be hit upside the head in Killian’s opinion. Birth was a battle, complete with blood, gore and shit. If he had been a lesser man, he would have left the room. But he had stayed through the blood, the screaming and even through Emma defecating while pushing Harrison out because his wife and son were worth it.

Harrison let out a whimper as he unlatched himself from Emma’s breast, squirming in her hold. Emma let a sigh of relief.

“Are you done, kid?” she asked, giving the boy a light poke on the cheek.

“Give him here. He needs to be burped. I’ll take care of him,” Killian said gently.

Emma handed over their son all too readily and Killian cradled him close with his bad arm as he knelt down to grab his neglected towel and carelessly dropped it over his shoulder. As gently as he could, he laid his son against him and began to rub against his back rhythmically. He leaned his head down a bit so that his cheek rubbed against Harrison’s black hair, meeting Emma’s eyes over his son’s head. Emma was watching them with drooping eyes, looking she was about to fall asleep.

When he finished successfully burping his son, he dropped the soiled towel into the hamper and returned to the bed.

“Budge over,” Killian commanded softly, gesturing for Emma move over.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting into bed,” Killian explained as if it was obvious.

“But you’re all wet and naked,” Emma protested.

“I’ve never heard you complain before,” he teased as he handed Harrison back to her and crawled beside her.

“Yeah, but I literally changed these sheets like thirty minutes ago and as I said before, my lady parts are doing a wonderful horror movie rendition. Probably will for a good few weeks. Just pushed out your kid, remember?”

“Relax, Swan. I’m not looking for anything. I’m more than aware what’s going on with your ‘lady parts’ as you so adeptly put it. No need to worry on that front.”

Emma gave him an unimpressed look as she cradled Harrison against her bare chest and begrudgingly moved to accommodate him. Once he was settled, he reached for her. Emma stiffened, giving him a very perplexed look.

“Seriously, what are you doing?” she asked with some frustration.

Killian wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close and maneuvering her so that her back was in full contact with his chest. He placed a kiss on the base of her neck and forward so that his chin was resting on her shoulder, looking down at Harrison who was still squirming a bit.

“Skin contact,” he stated absently, as he raised his hand to brush against Harrison’s cheek. When Harrison seemed to lean into his touch, he kept his fingers there lingering; just wanting to keep some connection between them.

“Skin contact?” she repeated in disbelief.

“Skin contact,” he confirmed, nuzzling his nose against the line of her shoulder, closing his eyes. “Reduces stress and pain…Helps sleep…Promotes bonding…Come on, I know you’ve reading the books, Swan. And you, my lovely wife, need some, if not all of those. Because despite the fact you think you’re failing, you’re an excellent mother, but you are very stressed and sleep deprived.”

“Killian, I am not a baby,” Emma stated, annoyed.

“I am very much aware of that, Swan.”

“Stop treating me like one then.”

“I’m not treating you like a child. Only as a stressed-out mother.”

“I’m pretty sure skin-to-skin contact only applies to newborns,” Emma replied and Killian didn’t need to see her face to know she was rolling her eyes.

“No harm in trying though,” he murmured, placing another kiss on her warm shoulder.

They didn’t speak for a few moments. Occasionally Harrison let out a whimper, but they were faint noises that didn’t seem to convey any desire or discomfort. The only other sounds that could be heard was the ceiling fan humming above them to ward off the early heat that heralded the coming of June and summer. Killian made a mental note that at some point he was going to have to pull up the air conditioning units from the shed. It would be a grueling task, but one he could cajole Henry into helping him with. He wasn’t about to spend the summer dealing with a cranky new baby and the summer heat.

Despite her protests and scoffing, Emma relaxed a bit in his arms and even leaned back against him. One of her hands found his on Harrison’s cheek and rested on top of it. Killian expected her to weave their fingers together, but she didn’t. He buried his head in the juncture between her neck and her shoulder, allowing himself to bask in the soft silence. His eyelids felt like lead and he was nearly asleep when Emma spoke.

“Harrison’s asleep…it’s a fucking miracle.”

“Considering that he has slept before, it’s hardly a miracle,” Killian muttered against her neck, not even bothering to open his eyes.

“Har, har. Very funny. Seriously, Killian, look at him.”

Killian opened his eyes, moving against his position on Emma’s neck and shifting to look over her shoulder to peer down at their son. Harrison’s face was almost completely hidden into the side of Emma’s breast, but he could see that the little boy’s eyes were shut and little puffs of breath were leaving his mouth in tandem with the small movements of his stomach. He smiled softly, his fingers twitching against Harrison’s cheek. The boy stirred a bit, a tiny huff leaving his lips but he didn’t wake.

Killian sighed in relief.

“He’s beautiful,” he said quietly before he paused. “Maybe you should take a cue from him and sleep too, love.”

“But that involves me moving to put him down and I don’t want to,” she whispered. “I don’t want to put him down, but I’m sure as hell don’t want to sleep with him in the bed. I have read way too many reports of parents crushing their kids in their sleep. That’s not going to be me.”

“Then hand me the lad and I’ll put him to bed,” Killian responded reasonably.

He shifted to bring himself into a sitting position, but Emma’s hand, which had been resting peacefully on top of his, grabbed his forearm. He stopped moving and looked down at her questionably. Emma tilted a bit so that her green eyes met his.

“But I don’t want you to move either,” she whispered.

“Someone has to move, love. Like you said, he can’t sleep in the bed with us. Just let me take him and I promise I will be right back.” He punctuated the promise by placing another kiss on her shoulder.

“Alright. But get back here. I miss you when you’re gone.”

“I’m not going anywhere, love.”

Somewhat reluctantly, Emma shifted into an upward position while holding their son as close to her chest as she could so he wouldn’t be jostled. She handed him over to Killian, placing Harrison in his arms as if he were something precious made of glass. The boy wrinkled his nose and both froze in fear of him waking like a pair of deer caught in headlights, but he merely smacked his lips together and went back to sleep. Emma let out a sigh of relief, which Killian inwardly echoed.

As soundlessly as was humanly possible, he paddled across the bedroom to where they had set up their son’s bassinet. Placing Harrison down, Killian planted a quick and gentle kiss against the newborn’s hairline. He stared at him for a moment, studying the boy’s dark hair and lashes. It was still so hard to believe that something so small and so beautiful was his. He smiled softly as he looked down at the child.

“Pleasant dreams, little one,” he murmured in a voice barely above a whisper. “Try to stay in dreamland for a good hour or two, no? Your mom would really appreciate it.”

Emma had not moved from her spot on their bed, not even to put her shirt back, which surprised him because Emma almost rarely slept without a shirt. However, considering the intense bags under her eyes and the grueling anxiety of the past few days, she might have been too tired to care. When he returned to bed, she immediately curled around him with limbs that reminded him very much of octopus tentacles, burying her head into his chest and sighing.

“I see you are no longer upset about the fact I am naked and wet,” he mused.

“Well, I was more upset about the wet part, which seems to be taken care of. Nakedness is okay.”

“Okay? Just okay?” He couldn’t help quirking an eyebrow.

“It’s more than okay. You happy now?” Emma replied, sighing.

“Aye. If my nakedness was not okay, then our marriage would be a pretty sad,” he chuckled quietly, mindful of the fact his son was sleeping just a few meters away from him.

Emma rolled her eyes, whacking him on the shoulder before kissing the affected area and settling back against him as if nothing had ever happened. She closed her eyes.

“Enough talking and go to sleep, Jones. Lord knows when we’ll get it next.”


End file.
